A friend's mother
is quite opposed to women being in combat, and was very upset that the Army recruiters kept calling for her daughter.

Finally, while my friend was politely trying to bow out of "coming into the office to discuss her future" her mother grabbed the phone and screamed:

"We don't live in fucking Israel!"

They left her alone after that.
(setimretlikes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 21:13,
Reply)

Failed the first test
My brother was considering joining the Royal Navy when he was younger and I went over to Liverpool with him so he could go to the Information Centre. I'm sat at the side of the office next to the Army desk when a young lad strolls in and walks up to the squaddie sitting behind the desk."I'd like to join the marines!"The bloke looked him up and down and then said:"You'll want the Royal Navy desk then."

Stupid twunt.

One of the lads in work was telling me a couple of stories his ex-SAS uncle had been telling him. They were somewhere in famine-hit Africa and were trying to supervise a relief air drop. On seeing the crates parachuting down from the sky, some of the locals ran underneath to catch them, not realising they weighed rather a lot. Not speaking the local language they had no way of telling them not to do that, so several of the locals got squished that day.
(hagis_uk, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 21:10,
Reply)

I had the last laugh
One night I got a phone call from a military recruiter.

"So, what have you been doing since school let out?" he asked.

"Well," I said, "I got my BS in biology and now I'm working on a Master's degree."

Morning Ma'am.....
Basic training in navy with a instructor more drunk than tramp'o'claus marching 30 pimply recruits about somewhere or t'other. Left right left right l r l r l..........you get the idea. Then a female orifficer appears heading our direction so he starts singing out 'The air was damp, my jeans where tight my balls where swinging from left to right, (salutes orifficer with a hearty morning Ma'am!) left right left right etc etc Never saw him again after that.Could always regale the story of the guy that used to eat bog freshners and sent his ex a shit in a shoebox all the way from the Falklands.....Grinners if you are out there and haven't died of some strange std then you are a sick sick man, funny though
(bettyswollocks, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 21:01,
Reply)

Army Stories
Have to think hard, most stories come to my mind when talking to comrades.

Searching cars in Kosovo was sometimes fun ( Only sometimes, since most cars are a mess...i had to search through )

One time we stopped a BMW with two bearded, long-haired guys in it ( Seemed suspicious to my group leader ). Apparently they had been through quite a bunch of checkpoints so they were pretty pissed off and starting to talk to my comrade "securing" the two of them in a voice which would have honored every italo-american wannabe mafioso from south bronx :

My comrades was trying hard to not burst into laughter while I was standing in their back looking at him with the biggest grin in my face i ever had.

Another time in Kosovo it was our turn in the routine to replace a platoon in downtown Prizren holding an outpost.We were supposed to be there at twelve and somehow that day had already started out badbeginning with 3 guys being late for morning parole pissing off the platoon leader, speedingus up until dinner.

On our way to the outpost, inside the vehicle, we were recapitulating what had already gone wrong that day and trying to imagine what could even make it worse.

"Yea, heh, the thing that could top it all would be that we forgot one of our men"

After a short moment of silence, the squad leader asked

"Hey...where is...private c."

Private C. was still at the field camp, after being late from dinner, he didnt make it to the parking lot in time but no one noticed due to being in a ptn-leader inflicted hurry.

The following days were not so pleasant, double shifts and so on...
(Leitnhax, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:58,
Reply)

My Grandad
I've never been in the army myself, but my grandad fought in WWII. He once escaped from an Italian prisoner of war camp because "it was boring". Some Italian peasants that didn't know there was a war on (don't know how) looked after him for a bit before he refound his squad.

He once got demoted for telling Montgomery what he thought of the food when he was in Africa.
(tranmerefan, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:57,
Reply)

Only for a short while
I'd been in the army a matter of days when i decided that being shot at by lunatics wasn't the ideal job for me. Whilst polishing my helmet one day, i met a kind builder who was repairing a broken window, shattered by shrapnel. I managed to sneak into the back of his van and he took me back to his where he introduced me to his friends; Cowboy Man, Indian Man, Policeman and Leather Man. We formed a pop group, the Village People, and had a few successful songs. I'll always remember my time in the army as a lucky one.....

I'm not in the Armed Forces, but Grandad was
Pops flew about thirty bombing missions over Germany in WW2 - got a Flying Cross for it and everything.

The one thing he told me about the war that I remember was that the airmen found out, about twenty years before anyone else did, that Switzerland wasn't really neutral in that war. I mean, they talk about finding Jews' jewelry and ingots made out of melted teeth in Swiss bank vaults - yeah, they took that shit, no questions asked. We KNOW about that.

But it'd have given the game away that much earlier if they'd asked the soldiers who flew missions over Germany, circled around over Switz. on the way to the English Channel, and said to themselves, "What the hell - are we getting SHOT AT?" It wasn't just looney Nazi sympathizers with hunting rifles on mountain sides - somebody had FLAK down there and aimed to use it.

Not really an army story but forces none the less
My Father used to be a Flight Engineer on Nimrod's (a marinetime search and rescue plane) and was shipped over to Florida, USA for an an 8 week training course and a general whose search and rescue team is the best event.Part of the training course was to drop torpedos at undersea targets and to see who could do the most damage from different altitudes etc using non live torpedos. Well during the event the helicopter crews would take the mick about how ancient the British technology was and wind my fathers crew and others up no end. It could have been sorted out fisticuff style, but being British they thought they would be a little more cleverer and sort it out McGyver style. During the course they seized there opportunity to shut up one particular helicopter crew, by launching a torpedo at a "small target" where said helicopter was hovering above filming to event. Only said torpedo was not programmed to fnd the underwater target, no, it leapt out of the water about 10 meters before the helicopter hitting it under the belly, knocking the winchman (or somebody similiar) out of the helicopter to fall into the sea, and the helicopter of course towards certain doom. It took no time for the nearest British helicopter to come over pluck the Sceptic Tanks out of the water return him to base and win the praises of the senior military men running the exercise, which shut the helicopter crews up for the rest of my fathers stay.The official report came out that explain that it was not my fathers crew fault, but in fact the helicopter crew being too close to the water and the torpedo seeing them as a bigger target than the original one. Nobody even knew that the little buggers could jump so high.....
(NIrvingCannot think of anything to say!, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:41,
Reply)

Sadly, not my story
My old roommate served in the First Gulf War. For R&R, they would put them on cruise ships in the Persian Gulf.

One of my roommate's friends was a HUGE and rather goofy redneck from Alabama named Bubba. Seriously, that's what he went by.

One night on a ship, Bubba had a few too many and was stumbling down the hallway back to his room. Coming the other way was an attractive young lady also on R&R. Losing motor control, Bubba body checks her into the wall, at the same time losing control of his anal sphincter. Not as bad as it could have been, but he let rip a loud, juicy noxious fart just as he crushed her into the wall.

Looking sheepish, Bubba said as sincerely as he could: "Sorry I farted on you."

Then a look of total disgust came over him and he screamed at the top of his lungs "BITCH!!!"
(setimretlikes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:31,
Reply)

the first dance i'd ever been to
was during a battle. it was my first time out in the field. about 15 years old. I was a private in the 3rd Maine, Company F. I shared a tent with the man i'd grown up with. My uniform was a hand-me-down from his time spent in the unit years before. they barely fit, but at least it was warm in the blustering cold of january. my first morning was spent rolling powder cartridges and cleaning my musket. the boiling water is not fun when you can't move your fingers because of the cold.

when we faced our enemy they surprised us and charged with bayonettes fixed, my friend jared died spectacularly. i on the other hand shot before they reached me, and we pressed on. the day's battle was one by the union troops, but the next day's battle was won by those stinking confederates.

after that week in hell, i knew i was fighting for more than a less-than-steady paycheck. i was fighting for her, the girl in the purple dress sitting on the hill and watching us kill our fellow man.

It wasn't me
but when we were 16, my then best friend Jim decided the Army was for him where-as I went to do A-Levels. Of course, he's getting paid and I'm not, so the 1st time he comes back from Germany (his 1st post) he's driving a MR2 and has enough cash to take me out for the entire week. I'm on £40 a week from my part time job.

So resenting him for that, and the fact that we never see each other, the friendship wanes.

Come on 4 years, and I'm in the boozer, drinking away with some mates and in comes James with some Army mates. Starts being the, ahem, "big tough squadie" in front of everyone in the pub. His mates pi55 off everyone and they generally create a right tis-was. He wasn't the most popular bloke before (big gob that ran him into trouble) but this put the locals in a distinctly on-edge mood.

Trouble was, he decided to try and take advantage of a young girl from the village in the pub beer garden; she was no more than 16, with some very large brothers. Cut a long story short, and those who live in small villages will know what I mean, him and his mates received such a kicking that I never actually saw him again.

I have recently heard that he is still in the Army, but now behind a desk somewhere.
(gjb006, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:58,
Reply)

The RAF paid me to go to University on the condition that I joined
as an officer for 7 years when I finished my degree. I took their money and then resigned my commission without a day of service.

I have to pay some of the money back...at the huge expense of 0% interest and in sums defined by me. Brilliant
(Devon Danwithout geometry, there would be no point, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:54,
Reply)

my mate steven would make me laugh as although not retarded, he was incapable of walking underpressure.

he would do the left leg, left arm at the same time.

every time.

some times the fookin air comandant (or whatever they called the shouty man, i never really paid attention) would take him to the far end of the parade ground and shout at him while we watched. for ages.

i mean, its only walking
(the brown fistheart of gold,fists of steel , knob of butter, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:51,
Reply)

a career in the army - no thanks
well last year my school went to this open day telling us about careers in the army. one of the things there was a huge army assault course. they had to pick six kids from our class to do it.

i got picked with two of my friends and three boys. when my two friends found out that we were being timed and saw the size of the course they dropped out.

so in the end it was me, another girl and four boys. so as we were ready to start there was a cocky peroxide blonde drill sergant who's haircut looked like pubes telling us what to do.

as we started he decided to follow me yelling at the top of his lungs "faster,faster you melon faster" this pissed me off

i was trying to go fast but he was distracting me so i fell off the bridge an some really nice army man helped me.

i missed out running round these cones and peroxide blonde army man tried his best not to swear at me infront of my teacher. saying things like "no you doughnut you missed the cones you melon faster faster you yoghurt pot" he carried on like this for a while.

if i wasn't with school i would have got down and told him he could shove his peroxide blonde pube cut head up a cone .

but me being with school i couldn't say any of that so once i recovered from this i decided to stare him out.

somehow i don't think he found a 15 year old goth girl very intimidating - no matter how scary my make up was.
(torture bunnylives under the kitchen sink, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:44,
Reply)

Don't think so...
Once, when about fourteen, I thought of joining the Navy. I went to the 'Careers Room' where details of such things were kept, and discovered that my eyesight would preclude even the job of Chaplain.Oh well. I've been wanking more or less constantly since then and it hasn't got any worse!
(PastorSauce: easy on the anchovies..., Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:38,
Reply)

Not the army but meh...
The joy of the ATC.

Being the best shot on .22, 5.56 and 7.62 rifles in my wing, I got sent to many things that regular air cadets don't go to.

One of these was a week long SERE (survival, evasion, resistance, escape) camp where I lived off rabits and got the shit beaten out of me by a hunter force of Officer cadets.

The first day, we were briefed on our mission (don't get caught), and basic field craft shite (how to build a shelter/catch food/etc).

On day two we were scheduled to be caught and then we were trained in cool stuff like room clearing, interrogation (read as 'torture') techniques, and a shed full of other cool stuff.

However, not all of us got caught. I had a five day ordeal hiding in bushes, burying my shit, and starving away like Victoria Beckham.

"But," I hear you cry, "you said you got beaten up by the Officer cadets!"Well, I was hidden for 5 days of 7. The last two days were spent being interrogated properly for making them look like a bunch of wankers.

How did I get caught? They found me filling my pouches with rations from their store.

To my credit, I did knock out the guy who found me. It was the noise the frying pan made on impact with his head that alerted the sleeping base to my presence.

Well...
My and ex- and I both applied to join the Officer Training Corps - we both got largely the same results, the only real difference being that she was a year older. She got in; I didn't, and I became clinically depressed, so hard had I trained to get in. When she asked her commanding officer on a drunken night why she got in, and I didn't, it turns out that they award extra points to the women they think they could sleep with.

ah,CCF Camp...
i was a small young lad of 14 when i went away for a week with the army, and what a week it was! between getting food poisoning and projectile vomiting and bum-vomiting at the same time on my birthday, and abseiling down a 100m tower and the like, all the luck seemed to go to my friend...imagine there being one fit girl out of about 300 on this base, and i joke you not,just the one. and imagine this girl having her school teamed with my school (the fact her school was called Giggleswick from Wigglesworth is inconsequential). and, i know its a stretch, but imagine this girl being head over heels for a very modest yours truly. well,imagine yours truly having recently asked a girl out before camp and therefore being unavailable.no matter for this spry little strumpet - she slept with another guy from my school instead. upon questioning he said it was the most surreal experience of his life as they were "in a room full of snoozing scousers". in that context,i think i win...length?darling, thats just my finger!
(asme, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 19:06,
Reply)

My Husband is in the RAAF
He got sent to the "sandpit" for three months a couple of years ago, cover story being that they were ski instructors.

Technically speaking, he's a returned serviceman, a war veteran. We love to tease him about his war wound: Tennis elbow from knocking back the coldies.

I once met this guy
And he was in town for a couple of days before going into the army. Some friends and myself were in the park dancing as you do, and there were these people on horses. Now, we love horses, best of all animals, so we asked if we could have a go. The snobby bitches said no so we decided to rent a horse instead.

At some time or another, the horse ran away! We ran after it and that guy immediatly jumped on the horse as it rode by and did all sorts of groovy tricks. So we sang a song and had a little dance about a 16 year old virgin.

After the whole horse thing we did drugs and sang some more. Next morning, the snobby horse girl was in the paper, apparently it was her birthday or whatever. We went to check it out and fitted in just nicely. Then some old fuck told us to piss off, which we didn't, and we ended up in jail.

Long story short, he went into the army, we went for a surprise visit. We traded places, he got to hang around with the gang for a day while I would play soldier. Turns out the soldiers were leaving for Vietnam that day! Not a very wonderful surprise, what with getting killed and all that.

Oh wait, that was Hair..
(thick as a brickI think a no, I mean a yes, but it's all wrong, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:53,
Reply)

My father not I...
Tried to join the army when he was about my age (21) with his best mate at the time.

My father had quite a few qualifications and experience in telecoms so they wanted him in as an officer within the telecoms area however because he was joining with his best mate they wanted to stick together.

Slight problem as said best mate had trouble putting one foot infront of the other he was that stupid so in end they came to a comprimise.

The recruiter came to the perfect decision.

Recruiter: So you two want to stick together?Dad and Pal: YesRecruiter: And you want to be an officer within telecoms and transmission area?Dad: YesRecruiter: Ok, you can work on radar and you... wanna be his driver?Best mate: Can't driveRecruiter: don't worry we'll teach you.

In the end though my father chickened out however his mate went through with it and lasted a whole 3 weeks before crashing a jeep into something and got discharged, i believe he's still rather proud of that fact too!
(One_Winged_AngelIch Dien, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:49,
Reply)

Air cadets
All my friends go to air cadets and meet stupid boys and do rude things in tents with them. Ah,the shape of the RAF to come...

Not very interesting,just wanted to be one of the 1st to post!
(Miharu, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:46,
Reply)

In The Army Now
I was in the Army for 7 months and one day - but a lot happened in that time. This is about a hapless twat called Williams.

Williams was a bit of a liability in the Army. He had no brains, no co-ordination and the fighting spirit of a sloth. Or so we thought. Being that Williams was so crap, the troop corporals were trying to get him to crack and resign. They didn't want to use their veto (they can kick anyone off, for any reason) as it was a matter of pride to these sadists to break the recruit and get him to request discharge themselves. And so Williams had a pretty bad time. Anything and everything he did ended up with a corporal on his shoulder screaming at him, yelling at him to drop and give him 20 or organising spirit-breaking punishments like the infamous "bumper parades". (A bumper parade was where you had to pick up a "bumper", a device with a long handle ending in a swinging weight of about 20 lbs which was in turn connected to a flat bed of stiff bristles. They were used to clean lino floors). Williams, to his credit, took it all.

And then, one fateful day he lost it. We were out in the moors on one of the rifle ranges and I was in the next butt over from Williams. A particularly sadistic corporal had spent all day riding Williams. Yelling at him, kicking him, screaming at him to resign and go home to his mother when Williams snapped. He was standing up and the corporal was walking towards him screaming at him when Williams raised his rifle and aimed it from the hip at the corporals body. I could see the strain on Williams as he wept and his entire body shook but he kept the rifle pointed at the corporal. The corporal froze and his face drained. Williams was still shaking and he brought the gun up to his shoulder and I could see his hands tighten on the rifle-but. He was definitely going to shoot. And then a quiet voice said:

"You don't want to do that son."

And walking casually towards Williams was our troop sergeant. A decent bloke, tough,strict, but not a bully.

"If you pull that trigger they'll put you away forever and he isn't worth it son"

The sergeant had now reached the corporal and walked in front of him blocking Williams from shooting him.

"Just put the gun down Williams - Put it down and we'll go and have a cup of tea and sort this out"

He walked up to Williams and stood about a meter in front of him.

"Unload your weapon son, put it down carefully, just like we taught you..."

And Williams crumbled. He safed his weapon, unloaded it and put it on the ground and with sobs racking his body, was taken away by the sergeant, never to be seen again.

We never found out what happened to Williams but there was no army trial so we presumed he was asked to resign and was shipped home to avoid any scandal.

If I'd been him and I'd pointed the gun at the corporal. If I'd been ridden as hard as Williams had been then I would have slotted the bastard in a heartbeat.

His job was to stamp the forms for people that had taken their driving test while in the forces to show that they had been approved. More often than not, he had to fill them out for the succesful candidates as well... so one day he just filled out an extra one for himself.

Yup. My uncle has never passed his driving test (never had a lesson in fact). He is somewhat worryingly rather proud of that. Keep off the roads near Derby, is all I'll say.
(Captain Skippypooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:41,
Reply)